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And twice to Day pick'd out the dullest Scent :
Trust me, I take him for the better Dog.

Lord. Thou art a Fool, if Eccho were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a Dozen such.
But fup them well, and look unto them all,
To Morrow I intend to hunt again.

Hun. I will, my Lord.

Lord. What's here? one Dead, or Drunk? See, doth he breathe?

2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warm'd with Ale, this were a Bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

Lord. O monstrous Beast! how like a Swine he lyes !
Grim Death, how foul and loathsome is thine Image!
Sirs, I will pra&ise on this drunken Man.
What think you if he were convey'd to Bed,
Wrapt in sweet Cloaths : Rings put upon his Finger;
A most delicious Banquet by his Bed,
And brave Attendants near him when he wakes;
Would not the Beggar then forget himself?

i Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chuse.
2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak’d.

Lord. Even as a flatering Dream, or worthless Fancy.
Then take him up, and manage well the Jest:
Carry him gently to my fáirest Chamber,
And hang it round with all my wanton Pi&ures ;
Balm his foul Head in warm distilled Waters,
And burn sweet Wood to make the Lodging sweet.
Procure me Musick ready when he wakes,
To make a Dulcet and a Heav'nly Sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
And with a low submissive Reverence,
Say, what is it your Honour will command;
Let one attend him with a Glver Baron
Full of Rose-water, and bestrew'd with Flowers,
Another bear the Ewer; a third a Diaper,
And say, will please your Lordship cool your

Some one be ready with a costly Suit,
And ask him what Apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his Hounds and Horse,
And that his Lady mourns at his Disease;
Persuade him that he hath been Lunatick,


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And when he says he is poor, say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty Lord:
This do, and do it kindly, gentle Sirs;
It will be Pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with Modesty.

i Hun. My Lord, I warrant you we will play our Party
As he shall think by our true Diligence,
He is no less than what we say he is.

Lord. Take him up gently, and to Bed with him ;
And each one to his office when he wakes.

[Sound Trumpets.
Sirrah, go see what Trumpet 'tis that sounds,
Belike some noble Gentleman that means,
Travelling some Journey, to repose him here.

Enter Servant.
How now? Who is it?

Ser. An't please your Honour, Players
That offer Service to your Lordship.
Lord. Bid them come near:

Enter Players.
Now Fellows, you are welcome.

Play. We thank your Honour.
Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to Night?
2 Play. So please your Lordship to accept our Duty.

Lord. With all my Heart. This Fellow I remember,
Since once he play'd a Farmer's eldest Son;
'Twas where you woo'd the Gentlewoman fo well:
I have forgot your Name; but sure that Part
Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform’d.

Sim. I think 'twas Soto that your Honour means.
Lord. 'Tis very true, thou didst it excellent :
Well, you are come to me in happy time,
The rather for I have some Sport in Hand,
Wherein your Cunning can allist me much.
There is a Lord will hear you play to Night;
But I am doubtful of your Modesties,
Left over eying of his odd Behaviour,
(For yet his Honour never heard a Play,)
You break into some merry Passion,
And so offend him: For I tell you, Sirs,
If you should smile, he grows impatient.


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Play Play, Fear not, my Lord, we can contain our felves, Were he the veriest Antick in the World.

Lord. Go Sirrah, take them to the Buttery, Let them want nothing that my House affords.

[Exit one with the Players. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my Page, And see him drest in all suits like a Lady: That done, condu& him to the Drunkard's Chamber, And call him Madam, do him Obeisance. Tell him from me, as he will win my Love, He bear himself with honourable Adion, Such as he hath obsery'd in noble Ladies Unto their Lords, by them accomplished; Such Duty to the Drunkard let him do, With soft low Tongue, and lowly Courtefie ; And say; What is't your Honour will command, Wherein your Lady, and your humble Wife, May shew her Duty, and make known her Love; And then with kind Embracements, tempting Kisses, And with declining Head into his Bosom, Bid him shed Tears, as being overjoy'd To see her noble Lord reftord to Health, Who for this feven Years hath esteem'd himself No better than a poor and loathsome Beggar: And if the Boy have not a Woman's Gift To rain a Shower of commanded Tears, An Onion will do well for fuch a Shift, Which in a Napkin being close convey'd, Shall in despight enforce a watry Eye. See this dispatch'd with all the haíte thou canst, Anon I'll give thee more Instructions. [Exit Servant. I know the Boy will well usurp the Grace, Voice, Gate, and A&tion of a Gentlewoman. I long to hear him call the Drunkard, Husband, And how my Men will stay themselves from Laughter, When they do Homage to this simple Peasant; I'll in to counsel them: Haply my Presence May well abate the over-merry Spleen, Which otherwise would grow into Extreams.

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Enter Sly with Attendants, some with Apparel, Bafon and

Ewer, and other Appustenances.
Sly. For God's fake a Pot of small Ale.
I Serv. Will'c please your Lordship drink a Cup of Sack?

2 Serv. Will't please your Honour taste of these Con.erves?

3. Serv. What Raiment will your Honour wear to Day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly, call not me Honour, nor Lordfhip : I ne'er drank Sack in my Life; and if you give me any Conferves, give me Conserves of Beef: Ne'er ask me what Raiment I'll wear, for I have no more Doublets than Backs, no more Stockings than Legs, nor no more Shooes than Feet; nay sometimes more Feet chan Shooes, or fuch Shooes as my Toes look through the over-leather.

Lord. Heav'n cease this idle Humour in your Honour. Oh that a mighty Man of such Descent, Of such Possessions, and so high Esteem, Should be infused with so foul a Spirit.

Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Chria ftophero Sly, old Sly's Son of Button-heath, by Birth a Pedler, by Education a Card-maker, by Transmutation a Bear. herd, and now by present Profession a Tinker. Ask Mar. rian Hacket, the fat Ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not; if she say I am not fourteen Pence on the Score for Sheer Ale, score me up for the lying'st Knave in Christendom. What I am not bestraught: here's.

I Man. Oh this it is that makes your Lady mourn.
2 Man. Oh this it is that makes your Servants droop.

Lord. Hence comes it that your Kindred shun your House,
As beaten hence by your strange Lunacy.
Oh noble Lord, bethink thee of thy Birth,
Call home thy ancient Thoughts from Banifhment,
And banith hence these abje& lowly Dreams:
Look how thy Servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy Beck.
Wilt thou have Mufick Hark, Apollo plays, [Mufick.
And twenty caged Nightingales do ling.
Or wilt thou sleep? We'll have thee to a Couch
Softer and sweeter than the lustful Bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.

In his own Condud, purposely to take
His Brother here, and put him to the Sword :
And to the Skirts of this wild Wood he came,
Where meeting with an old Religious Man,
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his Enterprize, and from the World;
His Crown bequeathing to his banish'd Brother,
And all their Lands restor'd to them again
That were with him Exild. This to be true,
I do engage my Life.

Duke Sen. Welcome, young Man:
Thou offer'st fairly to thy Brothers Wedding;
To one his Lands with-held, and to the other
A Land it self at large, a potent Dukedom,
First, in this Forest, let us do those Ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
And after, every of this happy Number
That have endur'd threwd Days and Nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returned Fortune,
According to the meafure of their States.
Mean time, forget this new-falln Dignity,
And fall into our Rustick Revelry:
Play Mufick, and you Brides and Bridegrooms all,
With Measure heap'd in Joy, to th' Measures fall

Jaq. Sir, by your patience: If I heard you rightly,
The Duke hath put on a Religious Life,
And thrown into neglect the pompous Court.
Jaq. de B. He hath.

Jaq. To him will I: Out of these Convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.
You to your former Honour, I bequeath, [To the Duke.
Your Patience, and your Virtue well deserves it :
You to a Love that your true Faith doth merit; [To Orla.
You to your Land, and Love, and great Allies;

[To Oli, You to a long and well-deserved Bed;

[To Syl. And you to Wrangling; for thy loving Voyage (To the Clown Is but for two months vi&tuall'd: So to your Pleasures; I am for other than for Dancing Measures.

Duke Sen. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Fag. To see no Paltime, I: What you would have, I'll stay to know at your abandon'd Cave.

[Exit. Duke

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